The woman is cast for a role. The makeup artist prepares her face: eyeliner, mascara, glycerin. Her lids flutter, a fake tear falls, the camera shutter clicks. The image circulates widely. Anne Collier finds it. She rephotographs, enlarges, crops, and prints it. She hangs it in a gallery. A viewer is transfixed by this close-up of a damp cheek: What happened—why did she cry? It was neither from pain, nor from joy, but for profit. It was all for show. Collier will have her own show of shows of roughly forty pictures taken from advertisements, album covers, and assorted found photographs, all of which catalogue both how women are depicted and how they depict. In contrast to the market’s obsessive focus on female emotion captured in “Women Crying,” 2016–, the series “Women with Cameras,” 2006–, highlights women in control of imagemaking. Altogether, Collier’s body of work emphasizes that woman is a category not inherent but produced.